Absolute Beginners
by BuryTheHatchet
Summary: Another season 4 alternative storyline. Absolutely nothing to do with my other season four fiction (Everything Starts Somewhere). There really is too much to summarise into 384 characters, so I will let you read it and you can come up with your own summary. There really is a bit of everything in this.
1. Absolute Beginners

**Alrighty then, this is the very long one I mentioned in my little authors note at the beginning of chapter 29 of It Takes Two. I still do not know if I like it, and there are some parts that I am much prouder of than others.**

 **I do not normally write a disclaimer in my stories themselves as there is one on my profile that basically sums everything up, but I have made a lot of references in this (Particularly to David Bowie – almost a salute to the man) and should probably reiterate the fact that I own absolutely nothing. Nada. Nil. Zilch. Must I go on?**

 **As I said, very long and some parts are better than others.**

 **Have fun.**

Absolute Beginners

She bit her lip as he hurried out of the bullpen again, answering his _other_ phone. She tasted the iron in her mouth as her teeth drew blood from the soft skin of her bottom lip. Her forehead felt hot as she placed her cold hand on it. Her mind was racing with thoughts, each concept fluttering past faster than the last like moths flying to a bright light.

It was her fault. She had produced the second bottle of wine. She was the one who had initiated the first kiss. She was the one who had unbuttoned his shirt.

But he hadn't stopped her.

It had just been one night. One beautiful, blissful night. And they had been careful. Obviously not careful enough. She switched to breathing through her mouth as Gibbs walked past with a cup of coffee in his hand and, although not saying anything, he definitely narrowed his eyes at her. She just smiled at him and turned back to the report she had been staring blankly at for the past hour.

"You okay, Ziva?" He asked and she snapped her head up to look at him sat at his desk.

"Fine. Why?"

"Your lip's bleeding." He pointed and her hand immediately reached up to touch the red liquid before grabbing a tissue and dabbing at the small wound. "You worried about something?"

"No, I was just off in my own thoughts." She shook her head and smiled again, hoping to convey confidence and not a homicidal urge in what she felt was a rather crazed expression. By Gibbs' nod she guessed she had succeeded.

"It happens to the best of us." He shrugged and stood up, heading towards the elevator to Abby's lab. Ziva let out a breath that she hadn't realised she had been holding and relaxed back in her chair slightly.

It was her fault and she would deal with the consequences. He definitely wouldn't want any part of it now he had a girlfriend. She wondered if he'd known it would be their last evening, laughing late into the night together. If that was why he hadn't stopped her. But how would he know? There was no way that he could have known that it was the last time they'd share dinner and a bottle of wine. The last time they'd put a DVD in the reader, or lounge about with a record playing in the background taking it in turns to read to one another.

That was something that had surprized her about Anthony DiNozzo. He read. And he read well. His voice made the words float around her head like the white, fluffy clouds on a rich blue backdrop that she remembered from days of her childhood laying on the sand with Ari and Tali. She had read the same words time and time again, the words of Jane Austen and Emily Brontë and Charles Dickens, but never had they sounded so sweet, so soft.

It was he who had picked a book up and started reading it to her first. They had just finished watching Ocean's 11 with Sinatra and Martin and he was putting the disk in the case when he spotted her bookshelf. He had run his fingers along the worn, battered, loved spines, reading each title as the tips of his digits brushed the lettering of each book until he reached one and stopped, pulling it out and walking over to where she sat on the sofa. They had been silent from the point that the film ended. He picked her feet up from where they were crossed on the arm opposite the end of the chair she was sat at and plopped down, dropping her feet onto his lap and opening the book up as if there was nothing unusual to it. She had stared: it wasn't every day that you saw Tony pick up a book, particularly if said book had nothing to do with naked women, which is why when he began to read she was startled at how easily the words rolled off of his tongue. They read _Persuasion_ first, and then _Oliver Twist_ and _Alice in Wonderland_ and _Wuthering Heights_ and _Pride and Prejudice_. The list grew as they spent night after night turning to books over films. It surprised her to see how much he already knew about the words he read to her, how he had memorised the first page of _To Kill a Mockingbird_ and knew by heart the last page of _The Catcher In The Rye_. It shocked her that he had read Holly Golightly's speech on 'the mean reds' almost as many times as she had. He read it for her four times the night they read _Breakfast at Tiffany's_. They had watched Audrey Hepburn play Holly's role before he stood up and plucked the little leather-bound volume off the shelf.

That was the night.

Their last night.

Their last film.

Their last book.

Tony had put a David Bowie record on the turntable he had brought for her (He'd said it was the only way to listen to music properly): _The Rise and Fall Of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars_. He'd said that Deep Blue Something had originally been named Leper Messiah, in reference to Bowie's Ziggy Stardust, and since Deep Blue Something had sung the song _Breakfast at Tiffany's_ it was fitting. She had lost her way in his convoluted explanation but she let him have it. Her head had lain in his lap as he read and she played with the hand that wasn't holding the book, tracing invisible patterns along his palm. As he'd spoke Truman Capote's last line of the book she had brought the hand she had been holding down to her lips and gently pressed a kiss to each finger, keeping her eyes fixed on the cherry blossom candles that flickered away on the mantelpiece so she didn't have to look at his likely horror-filled expression. He placed the book down on the arm of the sofa and, using his now free index finger, tilted her chin towards him, the rest of her face following. His eyes had been so…full. There was no other adequate way to describe them. It was like they had every possible emotion swimming within them all at once, some in higher concentrations than others. He had almost looked as if he were about to cry at first, but then he seemed to soften and she had sat up so their faces were level, their noses but millimetres from one another. She had placed her palm against his cheek as she skimmed her thumb along the contours of his pink lips. Their warm breaths had mingled and brushed against each of their cheeks as she closed the short distance between them. He had tasted of the 'fresh mint' ice cream they'd eaten whilst watching the film. One of his hands had slipped down to the small of her back as the other had held the back of her head, their lips moving slowly as one. Bowie ran out of things to sing about on the record, but neither wanted to stop as Ziva slowly and cautiously unbuttoned his shirt, not wanting to push him. He had scooped her up, their lips barely parting as he carried her to her bedroom – the one room in Ziva's apartment he had never been permitted into.

They hadn't spoken all night, just enjoying being in one another's arms, sharing their warmth. They'd each taken their own car into work. Stayed silent as they rode the elevator to their floor together, not out of shame, just not wanting to make the inevitable harder. There were rules against what they had done, namely rule 12. So they didn't mention it.

That was the day he received the first phone call. That was the day he had made a pathetic excuse when she had asked if he was coming over. That was the day that everything had changed. Irreversibly.

And so here she sat, two months down the line, the past few weeks flickering past her eyes at the speed of light. It was the day after Gibbs had come back and resolved all the problems with her being framed that she found out and ever since Gibbs had been looking at her oddly. For a whole month she had had to put up with his not-so-discreet questioning looks. Maybe Abby was on to something; maybe he was telepathic or psychic or something. But he couldn't know. She hadn't told anyone. She barely believed it herself; the idea of a life growing inside her was unnatural. Ideas like that were alien to her mind, like they were another language, and maybe, in a way, they were.

"It's 2100, officer David." Gibbs stood in front of her desk, coat on and car keys in hand. "You've been sat staring into the distance for over four hours."

"Really that long?"

"That's just since I came back from Abby's lab." He shrugged as she gathered her things together robotically – autopilot on full.

"Did Tony come back from wherever it was he went off to?" She looked at him almost hopefully.

"No." His head shook, his expression pitiful. "He has a girlfriend, Ziva. He's happy."

"That is why it hurts so much." She said without emotion as Gibbs wrapped an arm around her shoulder, a rare display of affection from her father figure. She tried to ignore how much the coffee smell clung to him. She had never really noticed it before, not that she hugged him often, but when she did she had never been able to smell it on him.

"The heartbreak gets better." He whispered in her ear. So maybe he didn't know. He just thought she was pining for him. "It takes time, but it gets better."

"I am not sure there is enough time left in the universe." She tried to count to one hundred in her head to distract her from the nausea building in her stomach.

"Give it a year, if your feelings haven't changed talk to him." Gibbs shrugged, frowning as she snorted. "What?"

"I might need to talk to him sooner than that." She stated, scooting out of the reach of his arm, the coffee scent becoming overpowering in the small elevator car.

"Ziva, he's happy." Gibbs sighed.

"And I am not!" She yelled as the doors slid open and she ran through the lobby and out into the open air. She emptied her stomach contents into a litterbin and sat on a wooden bench, leaning her elbows on her knees as she cradled her head in her hands.

Gibbs slapped the back of his own head as he watched, not believing how he could have been so blind. He was a trained investigator, for crying out loud. He walked over and sat on the ground next to her feet, resting his head against the wooden upright of the seat. "You wanna know something?" He asked as he traced the grain of the wood.

"Is it going to make me feel worse?" She grumbled and he chuckled quietly.

"No. Nothing that will make you feel bad."

"Go on then." She sighed and shifted back on the bench, tucking her knees up underneath her.

"This bench wasn't always here."

"Wow, Gibbs. That is very insightful." She deadpanned.

"Patience – let me get to the good bit."

"You are getting to be as bad as Ducky." She muttered but let him continue.

"One day there was nothing here, the next there was a bench. The whole navy yard was full of chatter about where it came from. Not even the people who should have known figured it out."

"You built this bench?"

"Yeah." He whispered quietly. "I did it for the anniversary for Shannon and Kelly's death. Not even Abby and Ducky realised I built it." Ziva looked down at his silver hair and then to the plaque on the back. _In memory of all those fallen in the pursuit of justice._ She smiled softly as she ran her fingers across the letters. "You're the only other person who knows that."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did you tell me that?" She asked, her voice weak.

"I figured we'd exchange information. One secret for another."

"What makes you think I have a secret?"

"Why don't we go get a coffee and we'll see?" He looked up at her and she groaned.

"How long have you known?"

"'Bout five minutes." He shrugged and she groaned again. "Ziva, it's not something you can keep to yourself forever, in a few months even McGee and Palmer might figure it out, although they would probably be too embarrassed to mention anything. Or scared." He added as and afterthought and she chuckled slightly.

"Do you think he'd manage to work out that it's his on his own?"

"Given time, he might be able to put two and two together, but I don't think you should leave it to that."

"Gibbs, you were right. He is happy. He does not need to be worrying about a baby. Or me." She shook her head.

"It will get worse the longer you leave it. Give him a chance to decide for himself."

"And what if he leaves true happiness because he feels he has an obligation?"

"Then tell him he has no obligation." Gibbs shrugged. He really couldn't see the problem.

"But I want him to be there for me. I want him to _want_ to be there for me."

"And the baby?"

"Yeah." She nodded, her voice hoarse.

"You're having a baby, Ziva. You have to accept that before you even think about talking to DiNozzo." He stood up and stared at her.

"A second ago you were telling me to talk to him as soon as possible, now you are telling me to wait!" She snapped.

"Ziva. You just need to realise that this is life changing."

"You do not think I already know that? This is my problem!"

"Alright." He placed his hand on her shoulder and felt a lot of the tension in her body seep away. "But you are going to love this baby whatever happens with Tony. It may not feel like it now but you are."

"What if I cannot?" She asked, fear thickening her accent.

"Ziva, you will. Trust me." He crouched down in front of her and for the first time that day, possibly even that week, she smiled. "Go home, get some sleep. Call Tony."

"Gibbs, can you call him?" She pleaded, her voice small like a child's.

"No." He shook his head. "But I can be there when you call him if you want." She nodded and he smiled, finally breaking through to her.

* * *

She paced back and forth across Gibbs' living room, eroding a path in the hard wood flooring. She chewed nervously on her thumbnail as her other hand held her mobile phone to her ear. It went to voicemail again and she turned to where he sat on the sofa, tears sparkling in her eyes. They had been going through the same ritual in his basement – dial, pace, hang up, redial – until he had suggested she might get a better signal upstairs. He sighed and picked up his own phone, hitting speed dial three. Voicemail. "DiNozzo! Where the hell are you? You better pick your phone up the next time I call you or you will be looking for jobs in another country!" He snapped his phone closed and looked apologetically at Ziva, the building tears now a serious threat. He tried one last time, standing up when the call was picked up on the last ring.

 _"Tony."_

"DiNozzo! Why the hell have you not picked up your phone?!"

 _"Er, I was busy?"_

"Too busy to notice the 16 missed calls?! Get your ass over to my place in 15 minutes or you can kiss your badge and SIG goodbye!"

 _"Boss, it's gonna take me at least thirty minutes to get there. Who's that crying?"_

"Your time has just gone down to ten minutes! Get here. Now!"

 _"How am I supposed to…?"_

"Drive fast!" Gibbs snapped and closed his phone, walking over to Ziva and handing her a tissue. "You sure it's not too cold in here? I can put the fire on if you want."

"It is fine." She shrugged. He had opened the windows to try and get rid of some of the coffee smell that apparently filled his house.

"Okay." He walked over and sat next to her on the sofa, letting her lean into his side.

"Thank you for this." She spoke softly.

* * *

"Hey boss, what's wrong?" Tony ran through the front door to Gibbs house, stopping in his tracks when he saw Ziva sat by the fire. "Where's Gibbs?" He craned his neck back to see her car on the drive and frowned. How had he not noticed the red mini when he pulled up?

"In the basement." She shrugged and looked up from the floor where she had a blanket draped over her shoulders.

"Why are the windows open in here? It's freezing."

"It smells like coffee in here." She turned back to watch the flames flicker.

"What do you expect? The guy probably bathes in the stuff." He laughed, quickly checking to see if the man had crept up behind him. "So what's going on? Why was I dragged out of bed? And who was crying?"

"We need to talk." She didn't look at him this time, her eyes fixed to the fire. He frowned. She sounded serious. "Do you love her?"

"What?" He walked closer.

"Your new girlfriend. Do you love her?"

"Well, I, uh…I guess…I don't really…I mean I could…I don't…not really sure… Why?" He stumbled through the words; uncertain he liked the direction they were headed in.

"But are you happy?"

"Yeah, I guess. Look, Ziva, what's going on?"

"Do you love me?" He had to strain to hear her and for a moment he was uncertain if she was actually talking to him.

 _Yes._ "Ziva…" He sighed. "Is this about what happened the other month?"

"Yes."

"Ziva. That night was amazing. And beautiful. But it broke one of Gibbs' biggest rules and it really can't happen again and…"

"Tony, shut up." She looked at him again, her eyes hollow. She'd blocked all emotion for this conversation in the hope that it would help her get through it no matter what the outcome was. "Just, shut up."

"You seem upset, maybe we should talk in the morning." He inhaled and looked around Gibbs living room. He jumped as Gibbs hit him on the head.

"Sit. Listen." He pointed to the couch and glared at the younger agent. He placed a glass of water in front of Ziva and smiled. "You want me to stay?"

"It will be fine." She shook her head.

"I'm gonna go have a shower then." He placed his hand on her head, looking down at her and nodding discreetly in a vote of confidence. He left and Tony looked around, frowning.

"Okay, what's going on here?"

"You have to understand Tony, I do not expect anything from you. You have no obligation whatsoever and I can cope on my own." Her eyes never strayed from the logs in the fireplace.

"Ziva, what are you talking about?" Still confused, he stared at the back of her head, growing frustrated with the fact that she refused to look at him. "Look at me, damn it!"

"Do not shout at me, Tony."

"Then tell me what's going on!"

"What is going on down here?" Gibbs thundered down the stairs and glared at them both.

"That's exactly what I want to know, Gibbs." Tony looked at his boss.

"You still haven't told him?" She swallowed and shook her head.

"Ow! What was that for?" Tony glared at Gibbs as he hit the back of his head.

"'Cause I'm not gonna hit Ziva." He shrugged, infuriating Tony more.

"Why not? She's the one who dragged me out of bed! She's the one who won't talk to me!" Tony yelled, a full-blown temper tantrum hanging in the balance. Ziva sat still as a statue and Gibbs was not certain whether she was waiting for the outburst to finish or just uncertain about how to proceed.

"Ziva, you gonna tell him or am I?"

"Neither." She stood up, emotionless and started to leave.

"Ziva, he'll find out sooner or later. What are you planning to do, run back to Mossad? How do you think your father will take this?" Gibbs tried his hardest to sound sympathetic, struggling with the immense task.

"I do not know, Gibbs. Maybe I have not thought this through."

"Thought what through? What's going on? Are you ill? Dying?" Tony's fury morphed into curiosity, then worry and finally into fear. "I know a doctor. She's good. I'm sure she has friends who can help with whatever's wrong."

"Tony, if this doctor is your new girlfriend, I doubt it would be wise going to her." She laughed humourlessly.

"Why? Ziva, if something is wrong I want to help. She can help."

"She cannot, Tony. It is not that simple." She laid her hands on his shoulders and smiled at him weakly before stifling a yawn.

"Ziva. You're tired. Continue this tomorrow." Gibbs turned her gently round to look at him. "You're gonna stay here tonight. I'm not letting you drive home." He pointed to the stairs.

"I do not want to sleep on your couch, Gibbs. I will be fine."

"Believe it or not, I do own a bed." He smiled and pointed to the stairs again. "Go on, I'll take the couch." She sighed and relented, allowing him to kiss the top of her head before trudging up the stairs. Tony waited for her to be out of earshot before he turned to him.

"Gibbs, what's wrong with her?"

"We'll talk when you've had some sleep. Take the couch."

"Gibbs, I think I'll decline your offer."

"Not an offer, an order." Gibbs murmured, making sure Ziva wasn't listening in.

"Where will you sleep then?" He tried to find a better excuse, but if this would help him find out what was wrong with Ziva, before it was too late, he might just have to go with it. She was his best friend and, although he had been treating her, well – there was no polite way to put it – he would still do anything for her. Heck, he loved her, how couldn't he.

"Got a cot in the basement." He shrugged and tossed a blanket at him from where it had been folded on a pile in the corner. "Night."

"Night, boss." He sighed and fell back on the sofa, leaning his head on the backrest and looking to the ceiling.

* * *

 _Why does the man only own one bathroom?_ Tony thought to himself as he crept up the stairs. _And why is that only bathroom the en suite?_ He cringed as he pushed open the door to the bedroom and it squeaked. _Don't wake her._ _Don't wake her._ He let out a breath as he saw her sleeping, huddled under the duvet. Her rhythmic breathing hypnotic, he was transfixed, watching the rise and fall of her chest. _Bathroom. Right._ He snapped himself out of his daze and stepped, rather heavily, across the room, wincing and checking he hadn't woken her before continuing.

Ziva blinked in realisation at where she was, remembering the previous night and groaning quietly. She sat up, allowing the duvet to pool around her waist, and looked around her boss's bedroom, taking in details she had missed when she had changed quickly into an old, grey NIS t-shirt that was probably too large on it's owner and crawled into bed. There was an almost musty smell to the room, like it wasn't used very often, but everything was clean and dust-free. Her gaze fell on a full-length wrought iron framed mirror that looked like it could be older than she was and matched the rest of the furniture. That was something that surprised her: with the exception of the wardrobe everything was made of the same metal. For a man skilled in woodwork, he didn't have much wooden furniture up here. The bedspread too was something she didn't expect of the man: it was a faded blue with small white flowers printed at the bottom. And also looked like it could be older than her, or at least her age. She slipped out of bed and walked over to the mirror, frowning and tilting her head at her reflection. She turned 90 degrees and smoothed the soft grey fabric of the dress-length t-shirt over he flat stomach, trying to visualise what she would look like in three months, four or five. She hadn't noticed Tony opening the bathroom door. She hadn't even realised that he was in there.

"Fool!" He cursed himself as the penny dropped, startling her.

"Tony!" She gasped, flushing bright red and fiddling with the hem of the shirt as it hung by her knees.

"You're pregnant?" He stared at her, or more precisely her stomach.

"No." She glared at him, tugging at the shirt and biting her lip, reopening the wound from where she had been chewing it the previous night.

"Don't do that." He shook his head and grabbed a tissue from the top of the dresser as he walked over to her and dabbed the blood away. "I like your mouth. Don't ruin it."

"The skin will grow back." She closed her eyes as he stood in such close proximity, her heart rate increasing.

"I wasn't talking about the skin, I was talking about the lie."

"I was not lying."

"Like hell you weren't. The shape of your mouth changes when you lie. It isn't as pretty." He let his hand linger on her chin before she pulled her head away and turned back to her reflection, happy thoughts all but gone.

"So what if I am pregnant?"

"It's mine, isn't it?"

"Why would you assume that?"

"Because if it wasn't you would have told me straight away."

"How do you know?" She mentally Gibbs-slapped herself for being so predictable.

"Because I know you, Ziva." His reflection stood behind hers, watching the virtual image of her eyes. "Why didn't you just tell me?" He sounded hurt, broken, and she hated that she had done that to him. Her perfect Tony cracked and damaged. Okay, so maybe he was never perfect in the general sense of the term, but he was Tony, and to his own standards he was perfect.

"Because you have your girlfriend, and you do not love me." She closed her eyes to create a barrier against the tears, too late as one salty droplet slipped down her cheek. She ignored it, knowing the act of wiping the teardrop from her cheek would be admitting defeat – something that she would never, ever do.

"When did I ever say that I don't love you?" He looked confused as he reached out to place his hand on her shoulder before reconsidering and dropping his arm back to his side.

"Last night." Her voice was shaky and he could tell that she was using all her strength to keep her from breaking down in front of him.

"I never said that I didn't love you."

"You never said you did."

"Because I can't."

"This is pointless." She muttered, anger taking over as she walked away from him to her neatly folded pile of clothes and removed the grey shirt before yanking on what she had worn the day before. Tony just stared, smiling at how, even during what he would call a pretty big fight, she was never exactly shy. "Stop staring Tony, your girlfriend would not like it." She snapped, still not looking at him as she did the buttons of her blouse up, the venom clear in her voice.

"That's it." He marched over to her and grabbed her wrist, ignoring her as she shouted, her writhing only making him tighten his grip.

"Get your hand off of me." Her voice calmed suddenly and dropped dangerously low, unspoken threats without a need to be vocalised conveyed in her tone.

"No. You're coming with me." He pulled her down the stairs and out of the front door, blocking out both hers and Gibbs' protests as he sat her in his car and sat in the driver's seat, zooming off before she had a chance to climb out. His driving was faster and more lethal than hers as he speed to the navy yard, not stopping for anything. They made it in record time and he didn't even bother to park his prized mustang properly as he pulled her out of the car again, much gentler this time but still not letting her go. He stormed through the lobby and into the elevator, letting go of her wrist whilst she had nowhere to run to in the metal box, wrapping his hand around it again as they arrived at the balcony overlooking their desks and pulling her towards the director's office. He pushed through the doors in a style learned from Gibbs and slammed it behind them to attract Jenny's attention to them.

"Agent DiNozzo. Officer David. What can I do for you?" She smiled and then she noticed the Mossad officer's dishevelled look, tears staining her face and Tony's hand gripped tightly around her wrist and her face fell. "What's going on?"

"I want you to tell her everything! Every single damn piece of information about the pointless mission! The mission that shouldn't even be ours! And I want to stop playing all of these stupid games! I don't want to do it any more!"

"Tony, how much have you told her already?"

"Nothing. I want her to know that none of this is my fault, that all of this is on you." Jenny sighed at his outburst, waiting to make sure he had finished before starting to speak.

"Agent DiNozzo, you know I cannot divulge the details of a mission. And nor can you."

"Then I want out. I don't want to be undercover any more."

"A month ago you wanted to keep this mission, you wanted to continue."

"And a month ago you said I could leave if I wanted to."

"That was then and this is now. We've come too far." Jenny sat behind her desk, both she and DiNozzo completely ignoring Ziva still stood by the door growing more and more frustrated by the second.

"And we still haven't gotten any further. We have learnt nothing! Advanced nowhere! It is pointless!"

"I understand that it feels that way now, but you need to think positively."

"No! This whole mission is a waste of time and resources." He knew why Gibbs retired now, or he could at least sympathise. Before he had just thought the man was being weak, but now he understood.

"Agent DiNozzo, you had the chance to leave the mission a month ago. There's no turning back now." Jenny could see she was getting nowhere with the man.

"Fine then." He narrowed his eyes, visibly jumping when Ziva's voice cut through the tense atmosphere.

"What is going on?" They both turned to look at her, having forgotten she was present.

"In about 45 seconds I am going to hand over my badge and gun and leave NCIS, and then I will explain to you exactly what has been going on, at which point _Madam_ Director will more than likely arrest me for treason." Tony stated bitterly, removing his SIG from his holster and his badge from the clip on his belt. He turned to the second of the shocked women and slammed them on her desk. "Go tell Gibbs you just lost him his senior field agent!" He yelled.

"Sit down agent DiNozzo and stop being so over dramatic." Jenny sighed and pointed to the chair. "Now, Agent DiNozzo."

"You're not my boss anymore." He shrugged and turned to leave.

"If I tell Officer David what is going on, will you take back your job?" Jenny relented, wishing there was a better way.

"I want to stop lying." He sounded exhausted, a small child on the brink of tears.

"We can talk about it, see what we can do." She indicated to the two chairs and Tony and Ziva sat in them, both looking as fragile as each other. This wasn't a conversation Jenny wanted to screw up. One false move and she could lose one if not two of the agency's biggest assets, not to mention two months of undercover work and intel gathering. They stayed silent as she explained the 'La Grenouille' case and she watched as silent tears slipped slowly from the corner of each of her two agents' eyes at her words, deepening the image of two lost, lonely, tired children. Ziva was her friend, had been since long before she came to America, and throughout the case with Tony she had gotten to know the man as a person, not just as a reputation or an agent.

"It was all just a case? The phone calls and leaving in the middle of the day? You ignoring me was all for a case?" Her voice was no more than a whisper as she looked up at Tony after the director had finished.

"I'm sorry." His heart shattered to a million pieces as he looked at her expression. "I had to ignore you. I had to make what I had with Jeanne as real and believable as I could, and I wasn't able to do that whilst always thinking about you. It felt like I was betraying you every second."

"It was your job. It had to be done." Her voice was back to the strong, confidant tone that she usually used, her emotionless mask back in place.

"It didn't. There could have been better ways. Hell, McGee could have had the role if it meant that I didn't have to see the expression you wore every time my phone rang."

"You think Agent McGee would have been better in that role?"

"No, director, I don't." He looked at her, annoyed that someone had gotten in the way of his apology. "But I couldn't care less."

"Agent DiNozzo, I do not know of anyway that I can extract you from this mission without causing serious repercussions."

"This mission is getting nowhere!" He shrugged. "I am sure I can think of ways to break it off with Jeanne whilst keeping your precious mission intact though."

"And how do you propose to do that?" The redhead raised her eyebrows.

"I don't know, I could lie to her, tell her I'm married. What's one more lie?" He shrugged again, letting his hand find Ziva's and entwining their fingers, the action not going unnoticed by the director.

"And you think she'll believe you? If you break her heart she'll tell her father. You need to get her to end it if you are really serious about leaving the mission." Jenny relented, not seeing the risk of delaying the case important compared to the risk of losing Gibbs' senior field agent. She could foresee Gibbs' face now, it would be a lose one lose all situation.

"And how will I get her to break up with me?" Tony narrowed his eyes, trying to quell his hope as he saw the distant, pale glint of light at the end of what had been a very dark, dank tunnel of lies and deception.

"Has she ever been to your place?" Ziva piped in, an idea coming to her.

"No." He looked at her. "What are you thinking?"

"Why are you doing this, Tony?" She looked him in the eyes, wanting a true answer before explaining her plan. He turned to the director, who nodded and walked from her office.

"I want to stop lying. To you, to her, to myself. I want to be able to love you and not feel guilty about it. Because you were wrong earlier, I never answered your question because I didn't want to lie to you any more than I had to. I didn't want to have to tell you that I don't love you whilst my heart is screaming that it does."

"And you will be there for me? And our baby?" Her voice cracked and she hated how weak she sounded, how needy she felt.

"Until the end of days." He brushed tears from her cheeks and she smiled, not a big smile but the first smile he had seen from her in such a long time and it made his breath catch in his throat at the beauty of it.

"Because you have no obligation. You owe me nothing." She shook her head, finally regaining control. She was having a hard time with that at the moment – control.

"Do _you_ love _me_ , Ziva?" He turned her own question on her. She just swallowed and nodded, her voice gone. "Then it's settled. What's your solution?"

* * *

Ziva laid her head on Tony's shoulder, her eyes fixed on the half-played game of chess laid out on the coffee table, playing the dreaded waiting game that they had been entertaining themselves with for the past week. They sat in silence on his sofa, Ziggy Stardust playing in the background, as they had every night since he had kissed her in Jenny's office and left to meet Jeanne for coffee, subtly leaving a parcel with his address written on the label on the table when he left to the bathroom. It had been something she had asked him about constantly when they first met. Where do you live? Why don't we ever spend the night at yours? He was always coming up with excuses; more lies piled on top of lies.

Jenny had given them time off of work to stay at his place until it was over, whenever that would be. They'd spent the days with a solemn silence hanging over them, smothering them. Neither knew how to break the curse, and they both doubted it could be broken before whatever was about to happen happened. So they sat in one another's arms, only speaking when it was truly necessary, when they were making breakfast or when Tony was holding her hair back when a rather unpleasant wave of morning sickness overcame her. Both were apprehensive, worried about what was going to happen. What if things turned sour? What if she just never looked at the address? What if she didn't want to pry? The last possibility wasn't likely. Tony watched Ziva sleep at night, her calming breathing a lullaby to help him relax. Ziva watched Tony sleep after she had awoken from a nightmare, his gentle snoring an almost comforting sound.

There was a knock at the door, making them both jump, and Tony looked down at Ziva and pressed his lips against her's for a brief moment. "I love you. I'm sorry." He whispered as he stood up and walked to the door to his apartment, preparing himself for the performance of a lifetime before pulling the door open. "Jeanne? What are you doing here?" He poked his head out and she grinned.

"Well, I haven't seen you in a week and I know you said you were working but I missed you and I thought you might like some company." She held a bottle of wine out.

"Who is it, Mon Petit Pois?" Ziva wrapped her arms around him from behind and leaned her chin on his shoulder, smiling at Jeanne's stunned look.

"Nobody, Sweetcheeks." He smiled weakly, the rehearsed expression coming almost naturally. "Go and make your move. Your rook is in a vulnerable place at the moment." She moved to his side, keeping on arm around the back of his waist, and looked Jeanne up and down.

"She does not look like nobody." Ziva leant up and pecked him on the lips before turning to the woman on the doorstep and smiling politely as one of Tony's hands sat on her hip and the other on her flat stomach.

"Please, I'll be there in a minute." He moved the hand that had rested on her hip to brush her fringe out of her eyes and smiled. "And don't move any of my pieces, I know where I left them."

"Take as long as you need." She kissed his hand and walked gently back to the sofa as Tony slipped out of the front door to look at Jeanne.

"Who is she?" Jeanne's voice was quiet with shame as she looked at the ground.

"My wife." He bit his lip.

"You don't have a ring." She pointed to his hand.

"Nor does she. We agreed that love was more important than a band of metal and if we needed a ring to be able to see the love then it was not meant to be." He looked back at the door, could hear Ziva changing to another Bowie record.

"What does that make me, then?"

"It makes you a pretty young med-student who approached me at the coffee shop and started flirting with me." He swallowed, feeling bad for lying to her even more.

"Do you love her?"

"More than life itself." The faint ghost of a smile flickered across his lips.

"Then why?"

"You made me feel young again, I guess." He shrugged, looking away from her pained expression.

"Was any of it real?" Her voice wavered.

"Not as real as it is with her."

"Will you tell her about us?"

"Yes. And she'll understand." Tony couldn't look at her anymore. He didn't want to see how much pain he was causing her.

"You don't deserve her if she can understand what you did." Jeanne said bitterly.

"I know I don't. I never have done. She's too good for me."

"Aren't you even going to apologise?" Her voice grew almost shrill.

"I could never apologise enough for everything I have done." He sighed and rubbed his face.

"And that's it? That's all you have to say?"

"That's all there is to say." He watched as she turned and walked away, trying to ignore the muffled sobs that she had been holding back until she was round the corner. The door creaked open slightly and Ziva stepped out into the hall. There was a silence as she placed her hand on his upper arm.

"I am sorry, Tony." She looked at him sympathetically.

"It had to happen. It was never gonna work." He was quiet. "I couldn't keep lying to her and I didn't love her."

"But you are a human, and you still have feelings."

"Yeah." He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. "You spend a lot of time with someone…"

"You start to develop feelings." She smiled softly, understanding. "She is very beautiful."

"No, not compared to you." He shook his head and kissed her gently. "I have been waiting to do that for two months." She pulled back and sighed.

"Tony, I cannot do this so soon after… You need time to think."

"She was just an assignment, Ziva."

"And you still have feelings for her. I want what ever it is we shall have to be special, and for that we must wait." It hurt her to say the words that would break his heart for the second time in half and hour. "I am sorry Tony. It will be better this way."

"I know." He whispered, brushing his fingers down the side of her cheek.

"Take as long as you need Tony." She pressed her lips to his.

"What happened to waiting?"

"Nothing. That was a promise, something for you to remember me by." She flashed a smile and placed her hand gently on his torso, smoothing the soft cotton of his shirt. She looked at her hand and inhaled shakily; desperately trying to find a hidden reserve of the strength she needed to tear herself away from him.

"Keep our baby safe." He smiled, thinking of nothing else to say. That was all she needed to nod and turn away.

"I will see you at work tomorrow, Tony." Her voice floated around the corner as she walked down the hallway. He smiled sadly and turned towards his apartment, sighing at how empty it felt without her there. She had been a constant fixture over the past week and it was as if the temperature of the whole building had dropped when he heard the squeal of tires that signalled her departure. He didn't need the time to move on from Jeanne, he'd already done it and it hadn't taken long. But he knew that she needed to give him that time, and he did agree that there was something wrong with just going straight to her after Jeanne.

* * *

Something was off. The director and Gibbs had informed them that Tony and Ziva were working an undercover op and they wouldn't be in for a few days, and the two leaders did not seem to agree on much else, not that they normally did anyway. But that wasn't what was wrong when McGee stepped out of the elevator. He had been hating having his two friends missing and it was killing him not knowing what was going on, but the look on Gibbs and the Director's faces seemed to convey a very strong sentiment of 'need to know', so he refrained from asking. So to see DiNozzo back at his desk, a wide, almost wistful grin on his face startled the poor Probie after he had gotten used to their absence. Granted it had only been a week, but he had started to acclimatise to an empty squad room. "Did the op go to plan?" He asked as he dropped his bag down at his desk and eyed Ziva's still empty chair.

"What d'you know 'bout it, McNosey?" Tony narrowed his eyes, his smile momentarily gone.

"Uh, nothing. Just you and Ziva were working some undercover thing, need to know." He shrugged as Tony regained his happy exterior. The man appeared to be radiating the cheerful emotion. "So, how'd it go?"

"Good. Better than planned." Tony nodded, meaning every word. He'd spent the night dreaming about Ziva, about a family. His head whipped up as the elevator dinged again and Ziva stepped lightly out. He jumped up and hurried over to her.

Tim watched as he bent close to her face and his fingers brushed lightly against her stomach. He narrowed his eyes at the scene. Gibbs was going to be so far past pissed that some sickening fascination, probably developed from spending so much time around DiNozzo, compelled part of him to feel almost excited about what Gibbs would say when he saw what was going on. The other, more sane and sensible part of him was telling him to get out of there now before he was caught in the line of fire. And so he did, casting one final glance at the couple still stood by the elevator, although further apart and involved in a much deeper conversation than McGee thought possible for Tony, before hurrying down to Abby's lab and pushing her out of the way of her computer. He brought up the live feed of the security cameras in the squad room, finding the one pointing towards the elevator and putting the image up on the screen.

"McGee! What the hell is going on?" Abby glared at him, ignoring the image on the screen as she stood with her hands on her hips.

"Watch." He pointed and moved closer to the screen on the wall.

"What is it?" Her curiosity piqued.

"Not sure yet, but my gut tells me it has a lot to do with rule 12. Can you lip read for me?"

"Sure." She zoomed in on them. "Er, Ziva's asking if he is certain he his ready… Tony said he is more certain about this than anything he has ever been about anything else before… Ziva's saying that she needs him to understand that he only has one chance with this… He's just asked if anyone else knows…" They both watched in a trance like state as she shook her head. They stared as Gibbs joined the couple at the metal doors. His back was turned so neither of them could see what he was saying, but what ever it was it made Tony grin and Ziva blush slightly.

"What do you think's going on?"

"Some serious rule 12 breaking." Abby muttered and grinned at him mischievously.

"Then why isn't Gibbs more angry?"

"Because we're his kids and if they've found love then he's happy for them."

"Abby, its Tony and Ziva. They are the two least likely people to find a love that lasts for more than fifteen minutes, particularly with one another." He scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Oh, come on McGee! They're made for each other! You even wrote a book about it."

"Abby, Deep Six is a work of pure fiction. It wasn't based on any of you." He spouted the same rigmarole as always.

"We all know that that statement is more fiction than your book, Timmy." She tilted her head and grinned. "The reason they haven't fallen in love with anyone else is because they could only fall in love with each other for it to work out properly!" So involved in their heated discussion, they had both been oblivious to Gibbs stepping into the elevator with Tony and Ziva, Tony's arm wrapped around Ziva's waist. They had completely missed the ding of the elevator as it arrived on the upper basement floor outside of Abby's lab. It was only when Gibbs hit the back of McGee's head that they were brought back to reality. "Oh, hey, Gibbs!" Abby grinned her best I'm-so-innocent-and-you-love-me-so-much-that-you-could-never-ever-in-the-entire-existance-of-the-universe-be-mad-at-me smile. "What's up?"

"Apart from you spying on Tony and Ziva's private conversation, nothing much." He glared at McGee, avoiding Abby's big puppy eyes.

"Ah, well, we were just wanting to make sure that our colleagues…"

"Friends." Abby interjected.

"Yes, we wanted to make sure that our _friends_ were alright." McGee looked to Abby and she nodded.

"Anyway, if you wanted to have a private conversation you should have had it in the elevator." Abby grinned at Tony and Ziva as they stood close together in the doorway.

"We didn't expect anyone to be interested." Tony shrugged.

"I guess we should have really." Ziva looked up at him.

"There wasn't enough time. I couldn't have waited any longer to talk about that." He bent closer to her. "Besides, in the elevator with no-one watching, who knows what I would have done…" Their lips met lightly as she chuckled and the three others in the Lab of Abby gave them a moment. A very brief moment, of course, Gibbs not one known for patience. He coughed and they literally leapt apart, both blushing scarlet. "Sorry, boss." Tony choked on his words as he couldn't get them out fast enough.

"This gonna interfere with your work?" He pointed to the two of them, his finger lingering longer on Ziva than on Tony.

"No, Gibbs. I mean, apart from the obvious, you know, um…" Ziva tried to come up with the words.

"Yeah, I got that part, officer David. But whilst you are in the office and you are working you will conduct yourselves entirely professionally. That clear?"

"Diamond." Ziva nodded and frowned at everyone's odd looks. "Clear as diamond. That is an expression, is it not?"

"No, it's not." Tony shook his head. "Clear as crystal."

"Oh. Right." She nodded, trying to imbed the idiom in her mind.

"I'm not letting you teach our baby English." He laughed in her ear and shook his head as she pouted. Tim's mouth dropped and the red Caf-Pow cup in Abby's hand was suddenly not in her hand and leaking all over the floor of her lab. "Oops?"

"Oops indeed, DiNozzo." Gibbs chuckled to himself and walked out of the lab, leaving the carnage behind him as he stepped into the elevator and let it take him back to his desk.

 **For my reference: 13** **th** **NCIS fic.**


	2. Bedtime Stories

**Hello. Hello, hello, hello. I am back. More unforeseen circumstances have put It Takes Two on hold for a little bit whilst I work out what I am going to do. It should not take long, the next couple of chapters just need rethinking and reworking.**

 **Anyway, so, remember this long one-shot? Probably not. Well, I would go back and recap. Although that is probably not necessary and this would probably work as a stand alone if you could not be bothered to read back on it.**

 **Of course, if you are reading this in the future, then first off, let me say hello. Hello. Oh, wait, I have already said hello. Oh, well. Secondly, you are lucky. You have probably just read the last chapter and this might just make a little more sense.**

 **I had not planned on continuing this, honestly, I had not. But on the plane on my way back from the business trip that kept me from doing any writing, I borrowed a pen and a pad of paper from the guy sat next to me and wrote this. It is not very good. A bit of fluff.**

 **So, um, where are we now… let us see, we left off with Tony and Ziva accidentally-on-purpose announcing Ziva's pregnancy to Abby and McGee, yes? Right, well, this is set a few months down the line, although I do not think there is a specified time.**

Bedtime Stories

Tony grinned as he walked into his apartment to see his girlfriend laying on the couch with a Sinatra record on in the background and a book in her hand. Her other hand was drawing patterns on the side of her distended stomach, a soft smile touching her lips every so often. "You are home late."

"We wrapped the case up. The wife did it, like I said."

"And that is why we are not getting married." She muttered, still not looking at him. "I would hate to end up having to kill you."

"Thanks, Sweetcheeks. I love you, too." He dropped a kiss to her forehead. "How is my little baby today?"

"Bored." She sighed, finally putting the book down and looking up at him, pouting.

"And how are you?"

"Ache."

"What aches?"

"Back."

"Am I going to get more than one syllable answers?" He chuckled, twirling a strand of her hair in his fingers.

"No."

He sighed and nodded, removing his suit jacket and throwing it onto the armchair. She sat herself up slightly and he sat down, letting her lay her head in his lap and stroking her hair. "Is it story time?" She nodded and he smiled. "Okay. It's your turn to choose."

She stood up and walked over to the bookcase. Her fingers grazed over the battered, loved spines before lingering on one and plucking the volume out. She handed it to him and grinned at his sigh. "Crime and Punishment."

"Ziva, most people read their kids stories with well-dressed rabbits and poorly-mannered Tigers and caterpillars with eating disorders."

She frowned, puzzled, before shrugging. "Since when have we been most people?"

"That, my love, is a very good point."

* * *

He had barely been reading for fifteen minutes when her light snores filled the room. He smiled and put the book down on the arm of the chair. He relished in the peaceful look on her face as she slept, tracing his fingers down her jaw bone to wake her up. "Why do I bother reading to you when you fall asleep like that?"

"Because you love me? Because Baby likes to hear your voice?"

"That must be it." He smiled. "You can't sleep here though. It is not comfortable for you or Baby."

"Carry me?"

He shook his head. "My knees are playing up."

She snorted. "Your knees are not playing up."

"You're right, they're not, but you'd kill me with Anna Karenina if I said you're heavy." He nodded to the book she had left on the coffee table when he had gotten home.

Her eyes narrowed to a glare. "And I will kill you with War and Peace if you lie to me. Which you just did." She growled at him.

"You know, poor old Tolstoy here, I'm sure he never intended for his books to be used as possible murder weapons." He tried to distract her from her train of thought and the consideration of his demise.

"Maybe he should have thought about that before he wrote books that were the ideal weight to bosh someone on the head with."

"Bash, or bang, not bosh. And I don't think things like that frequently occur to authors when they're writing. I know, we'll ask McWriter if he has ever thought whether his book could be used as a weapon." He grinned DiNozzo-ish-ly as she rolled her eyes.

"You are so mean to him."

"What? You feeling protective over McGee now? Do you love him more than me?" He mocked offence.

"Yes." She played along, giving a nonchalant shrug. "In fact, I am thinking of replacing you with him?"

He smirked. "You wouldn't dare. You'd miss me too much. Besides, what does McGee have that I don't?"

"A maturity level over that of a fourteen year old boy?"

"Hey, that hurts! I am mature. I'm gonna be a dad." He beamed proudly, puffing his chest out slightly.

"Yes, yes you are." She smiled, reaching up and brushing her fingers along his jawbone. "You are going to be an amazing father. And this baby, our baby, is going to be very lucky." She took his hand, kissing his palm before laying it on her stomach and covering it with her own, splaying her fingers between his.

"Bedtime?"

"Mmhm." She nestled her face into his stomach, chuckling when his laugh rumbled through his body.

"Not here, Ziva. Bedtime means bed, not sofa."

She shook her head and mumbled into his stomach. "Mi mn mumfy mere."

"What was that?" He laughed, playing with her hair.

She sighed and turned her head to look up at him, rolling her eyes in exasperation. "I am comfy here."

"But you won't be in the morning, and nor will I. And then we will be grumpy, which will result in Gibbs being angry with me, which will lead to me either being head-slapped into oblivion or loosing my job, neither of which will in any way benefit our baby. Therefore, we are going to sleep in our bed." He breathed and looked down, sighing when he realized she had, at some point during his explanation of why they should go to bed, fallen asleep again.

It was going to be a long night.

 **Cupcakes to whoever works out correctly which three kids books Tony described. Well, imaginary cupcakes...**


End file.
